Stranded
by Cougar66
Summary: PERMANENTLY DISCONTINUED- SEE AUTHOR PROFILE.
1. The Beginning

**Well, I finally decided to take up writing this story again! Yay! –trails off as crickets chirp- Bah. I've re-edited some parts, cleaned up others and even put chapters together so they're nice and long for your reading pleasure! Without further adieu, I proudly present to you the revised edition of _Stranded_! **

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Predator. I do have rights to Rl' Vli Kalfi's character statistics!

* * *

Something was wrong. The small spacecraft had shuddered violently like some sort of giant animal, almost like something had sideswiped the ship. Normally, such a ship of this size, small as it was, could take a blow and still retain normal status, but whatever had hit the ship had damaged something critical as the system readings now told him. Agitated clicking emerged from the solidly built figure that had emerged from the doorway, appearing from the air almost like magic. Nearly inaudible footsteps echoed around the empty space as he stalked over to the controls, but he had failed to take into account the fact that the ship was threatening to destabilize. Making a tortured squealing noise, the ship suddenly bucked and tilted alarmingly to one side, sending the startled warrior sprawling, a grunt emitting from him as the wind was momentarily knocked out of him.

With a growled oath, the Yautja fought the ship's frenzied movements had staggered to his bare feet, clawed hands reaching out to grasp the pilot's chair in an attempt to steady himself. Using his height to his advantage, Bti Jfl leaned over the leather bound chair, muscle bound arms reaching across so his thick digits could type frantically across the computer interface. Harsh intelligible language, unrecognized by anyone except his kind, yammered back a response. By the reaction of the male, the answer hadn't been a good one. Mandibles clacking against each other in aggravation, Bti Jfl muttered some unrepeatable words under his breath, hands balling up into fists.

Like the ship was mocking him, it plunged once again, but this time, the Yautja had been prepared for it and simply grabbed at the back of the chair, maintaining his balance. Balefully glaring at the computer, he sighed mentally before seating himself in the amply sized chair. Gods, how he hated electronic mumbo jumbo! Talons clicking as they hit against the smooth metal surface, he fought against the ship's own mechanics, and failed rather miserably. Finally loosing his temper, he lashed out with a meaty fist, and was immediately rewarded with a shower of sparks spraying from severed wires. In an almost gleeful way, the lighting went out, plunging him into pitch darkness save for the occasional spark. Not really noticing the darkness that prevailed in the ship, for his vision was based on heat signatures, the male sighed with self-disgust.

Ruefully regretting the fact that he ad foolishly lot his temper and possibly ended his own life, he cautiously tapped on the face of the computer, managing to control his relieved sigh as the computer spluttered back to life despite having a large hole in the upper parts of its wiring. Sending a silent thanks to the Goddess for watching over him, he ran a status check, and was dismayed to find the condition of the ship had sunk beyond 50.

Resisting the urge to simply stick his wrist blades in something, Bti Jfl let an explosive curse blast from his inhuman throat as the ship's system stubbornly refused to respond to his typed commands. Emotionless mask moving back and forth as he stared at the damage he had caused when he had lashed out earlier, he gave himself another mental kick, all the while berating himself. _You stupid pauk-de fool! You should not have lost your temper like that!_ As to vertify his unspoken statement, the ship groaned and shuddered violently again, nearly unbalancing the towering figure before he remembered the chair located behind him. Hissing the male slumped back into the chair, thick arms moving upwards to rest across his chest. Indeed the image was one of a child pouting because he hadn't gotten his way. Mandibles arranging themselves into the human equality if a frown, he peered at the partially shattered board and couldn't quite resist slamming a fist down on it again. The results were…unexpected.

A shower of sparks flew up from the exposed wiring to land on his unprotected arm. Owing to his cold blooded nature and the thickness of hisskin, he normally could shake off such a small thing like fire sparks, even relish the heat if he was cold, but this was not the average shower of sparks. Superheated by the nature and structure of the wires to a blistering 300 degrees Fahrenheit, they darted upwards, sizzling upon contact with the cool skin. Hooded eyes snapping wide open with surprise, he unleashed a tremendous roar of pain that reverberated throughout the small ship. Bti Jfl, acting on the instincts of a warrior born and bred, clenched his fist and twisted it in such a way that the wrist gauntlet was deployed. With a distinctive 'SNIKT' twin ki'cti'pa shot out of their sheaths and plunged into the unprotected machinery even as Bti Jfl realized what he had just done. Before he had a chance to react, the ship did a 360 spin that left him stretched out on the floor and scrabbling desperately to regain his feet. As it was some living thing in the throes of a horrible seizure, the spacecraft made a hideous screech and jerked drunkenly to one side. The hapless Yautja was too astonished to react in time, and his frame made a dull "thud" as he banged into the unyielding wall.

Stifling a groan as his muscles screamed at him in protest for the abuse he was lavishing upon them Bti Jfl managed to struggle to his feet just as the gravity unit decided to die. Instantly, the metal mask covering his domed head was introduced to the ceiling in a rather unpleasant manner, and he dazedly stared at the Buirs that were winging their way around his vision. Struggling to keep the looming darkness at bay, he didn't notice as a certain blue planet slowly moved into view in front of the opaque shield board. Before he finally succumbed to the beckoning darkness that promised rest and pleasant dreams, the last thing he saw was the computer faintly flickering with jumbled words, the particular words, "Umbri hin quinti in felring jhuts" jumping out at him before all went dark.

* * *

Rough human translations: 

Pauk-de- fking

Ki'cti'pa- wrist blades

Buirs- bat-like winged mammals that live on the Yuatja world

Umbri hin quinti in felring jhuts- Faisia (Earth) contact in ¾ of a rotation (5 hours)

Bti Jfl means Big One


	2. Painful Memories

Whee here's the second chapter! I promise in the 4th chapter, the action will be picking up. I'm just trying to set up the characters so you can get an understanding of them. Umm... Yeah I think that's it... So.. without further delay, here's Painful Memories!

* * *

Straightening up with a muffled 'creak' from her cramped muscles, Sheila paused in the tending of her lush garden, chock full of colorful and exotic flowers, fragrant herbs, and a large assembly of vegetables. Towering over her head and providing shade, a vast array of climbing vines and fruit trees added to the décor of the attractive place. A white fence that instead of taking away from the image of the pristine place, only served to enhance the beautiful sight, acted as a border around the rather large garden, and was obviously kept in good repair as evidenced by their fresh coat of snow white paint.

With a contented smile on her pretty features, the slender woman shielded her sapphire eyes against the merrily twinkling sun while surveying the neat rows laid out before here, sensitive nostrils picking up the subtle scent of gardenias and the refreshing smell of mint floating on the air. A light breeze, warmed by the sun, picked up slightly and stirred up her sweat dampened hair, managing to tug some silvery blonde strands free from her braid and whipping it around her face. Casually shoving it back behind her ears, Sheila's dirt encrusted hand brushed against her soft cheek and left a thin trail of black soil behind.

Not really paying attention to the cool feeling on her tanned skin, the small-framed woman scanned the area, full lips pursuing in a round O and sending a shrill whistle out of her throat. A few minutes later, after the slight echo had died, roaring bays here heard, with sharp yelps and barks occasionally puncturing the wild howls. Broad grin etched onto her face, Sheila whistled once again, a short and sharp sound and moved toward the gate leading out of the garden. From the edge of the woods that completely surrounded her home except for a small road, a pack of dogs surged into sight, tongues lolling and ears flapping as they again gave into the urge to yell out their exalted joy. From the smallest Jack Russell terrier to the largest Bernese Mountain Dog and a range of motley breeds in between, the horde swept toward Sheila, who with a child-like laugh, sat down and waited for their joyful salutes.

Upon seeing a chance to greet their beloved mistress, all nine of the dogs fairly flew to her sitting form, jostling each other aside for a chance to interact with her. Pink tongues, wet with dog salvia slapped against her face and was dragged up and down while others yet washed her exposed arms and hands. The smallest, Benny, a Jack Russell who had recently turned ten months old, leapt up and down, yapping with all the force he could muster up until the human scooped him up in a loving hug. Upon seeing her attention fixed on one of the dogs, the other canines increased their noises; all trying to get her to stroke them or even speak a kindly word to them. While the noise level might have driven someone else insane, it didn't faze Sheila at all seeing as she had rather conveniently turned off her speech processor beforehand. Cooing at the dogs, she was sure to spend some time with each and every dog before sending them to the house.

Once again scrambling up onto her feet with the grace of an athlete, she couldn't help but glance down at herself and chuckled softly at the state of her being. Muddy paw prints trailed over her lap, and hairs of various shades and lengths cling to her formerly white shirt, turning it into a furred quilt of some sorts. Brushing off what she could, which wasn't a lot, Sheila shrugged her shoulders in a careless way. She'd just have to go to town again soon and pick up a couple more clean shirts and some more supplies. Abruptly, a cloud passed over her expressive features, and for the briefest moment, tears shimmered in her icy blue gaze before she blinded rapidly to rid herself of them. God, how she hated traveling into town, where everyone stared at her with open mistrust and even fear and whispered snide comments to each other about that "odd one that can't hear." Swallowing hard against the painful lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, Sheila remembered the last time she had gone.

:Flashback:

Ducking her head just in time, a sizeable rock whizzed past her ear and zinged off the ground before coming to rest. Increasing her speed, the small sized woman sprinted for the safety of her truck, her precious cargo clutched to her chest. Cries of derision and mocking rose up around her accompanied by a hail of pebbles that bounced off soft yielding flesh harshly. Gritting her teeth at the pain, Sheila chanted silently to her self over and over, "I will not cry out," even as she reached the large truck that was her refuge from the angry townspeople. Barely slowing down, she whipped open the door and leapt in before slamming it shut and pounding a fist down on the lock. Hastily pushing her groceries to the passenger's seat, Sheila bit her tongue as she pondered her options.

She still had to get some other crucial supplies, but there was one small problem. Okay not so small a problem: Eric. A bitter middle-aged man, he hated her with a passion unrivaled by any others. It had happened about 5 years ago when she had first moved here. He had fallen heads over heels for her, even going as far as to purposing to her in front of the entire town. What he hadn't foreseen was the fact that she didn't return his sentiments, seeing in him a dark and evil core, the kind that beat up their wife, kids, and pets. Most definitely not Sheila's kind of man. When she rejected his suit, Eric's ego had taken a huge blow, and to vent his wrath, had begun spreading vile rumors about her. Having a job as a pharmacist, he was in regular contact with the majority of the townspeople, and within days it was common known fact that the deaf woman had once been a prostitute who had fled from the law and now was hiding in the blue-collar town. This riled the people up, but without proof of Sheila's wrong doing, they were powerless to do anything except make her life miserable as possible.

Deep in her reflections, Sheila absently tugged at the hair covering her cochlear implant so it covered all traces of the machinery before turning the keys to her car. The engine, after a false start, roared to life and she maneuvered her way down the street toward the drug store. Upon seeing the large and rather hostile crowd that had gathered in front, Sheila was forced to reconsider her decision. Forgetting her bruised back, Sheila leaned back wearily and yelped with pain as the tender skin stung fiercely. "Bloody hell that hurts!" She growled, the slightest trace of a nasal accent in her voice.

An uneducated person might have mistaken her for a French speaking person if they weren't listening closely. Slamming the car into reverse, she expertly swung the rear end of the truck around in a large 180-degree turn before stepping on the gas rather violently. With a tortured squeal, the truck shot off like a bat out of hell.

:End flashback:

Coming back to herself with a start, Sheila was mildly surprised to find herself on her knees, tears streaming down her face. Several of the dogs had come back, probably to investigate why she hadn't come sooner and now stood around her, their expressions uncommonly grave. Mustering up a strained smile for their benefit, she croaked, "C'mon, let's get y'all fed."

Ears perking up at her words, their bright eyes gleamed hungrily and several as in understanding, dashed back to the house barking madly. In response, the rest of the pack spilled out onto the front porch and stood milling around, their eager cries spurring Sheila to her feet. "No use in crying over past things when there were things to be done today," her mother had always quoted to her. Slowly but surely, she made her way to the house, and managing to wade through the masses of warm bodies, opened the door. All the dogs, seeing an easier way to get in aside from the dog door, surged forward with a single minded purpose: food.

Her laughter, while still strained, floated out on the air as she followed her beloved pets into the house, leaving the door to shut slowly on its own.

* * *

Disclaimer: I own Sheila, her doggies, and the characteristics of "BJ" or Bti Jfl(however I spelt it). Everything else is copyrighted to their creators.

For those of you interested, I have developed stats for the two main characters of this story, Sheila and BJ. If you're interested in recieving them, let me know in a review along with your e-mail and I'll send them to you in a jiffy!


	3. Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Thank you all for your enthusiastic reviews! I do apologize for the delay... I had to go away for a couple of weeks and didn't have access to a computer. Horrible let me tell you. But enough about that! Without further delay, the next installment in Stranded!

Note-This chapter picks up right from the previous chapter. The title really doesn't make much sense but oh well. Does contain some mild language so be warned!

* * *

Dimly hearing the door shut behind her, Sheila raised a hand to wipe at her tear-streaked face before continuing to fight her way through the crowded kitchen that was stuffed full of dogs, all clamoring for their suppers. Muttering under her breath about the dire consequences that would occur if the panting forms didn't get out of her way, Sheila, nonetheless, was gentle as she moved one dog after another out of her way. Managing to struggle over to the pantry door, she cast a stern eye over the grinning faces, and barked out a command, "sit!"

Instantly, all doggie rumps were lowered to the ground and utter silence descended over the lot. Nodding in satisfaction, Sheila strolled into the spacious pantry, slender yet callused hand already reaching for the first of the food bowls. Easily hoisting a bag of dog food labeled "for Delilah P.M." she filled a pale green bowl with the same name neatly written on it in permanent black marker. Setting the medium sized bowl on the ground, she reached for another similarly labeled bowl, only this time with the name Benny on it and a dark navy blue color and repeated the procedure. When she was finished, three neat stacks of food bowls with 3 bowls piled on each other per each stack sat waiting to be relieved of their crunchy kibble.

Peeking out, Sheila couldn't quite suppress a giggle at the sight of the dogs. All were still sitting in the same spots as before, but variously sized pools of drool decorated the floor at their front paws, and their eyes had a somewhat glazed look to them. Feeling sorry for their plight, Sheila, with nary a glance, expertly flicked out the bowls of food, while calling out each canine's name. "Benny! Rowdy! Vivian and Vice! Delilah! Cooper, Dare, Link! And now Fu!"

A the names were spoken, each dog jumped up at the sound of his/her name and practically dove at the container she sent winging in their direction. Soon the air was filled with the sounds of powerful jaws crunching the dry kibble into smaller pieces for easier digestion, and the occasional growl if a dog moved too close to each other in their anxiousness to make sure they hadn't missed any scraps in their bowl.

Taking the time to lean on the frame of the door, she surveyed the shaggy bodies, mentally tallying up the days before she would have to head back to town to pick up even more feed for the dogs. Thankfully she had enough to last them for another week or so… Lips pursued into a thoughtful frown, Sheila padded across the kitchen, faded gray sneakers speaking softly against the hardwood floor scored by numerous claws and dull from years of wax build up. Her designation: the refrigerator. Ancient in appearance and unreliable in its functioning, the fridge was prone to rattling fits that practically shook the foundation of the house and send nearly all the dogs into a barking fit, convinced that the big thing was about to kill them. Despite its shortcomings, Sheila felt an affection of some sort for it, even going as far as to dub it SORB, short for Shitty Old Rusty Bucket. Sure, she had the money to buy a modern sleek fridge that ran quietly and required virtually no maintaining, but she couldn't just bring herself to get rid of something that had been with her for all those hellish years.

Deep in her musings, the fridge door firmly clutched in one hand and the other propped on her hip, she didn't notice as the old motor spluttered and coughed as it worked even harder to keep the interior cold. Shaking in its moorings dangerously, the fridge made a odd squealing noise that sounded vaguely like a frog being stepped on before its motor died and the appliance shuddered once more before becoming still. Snapping out of her stupor at the sudden absence of noise, Sheila groaned in disgust and growled, "Ach dammit! Not again!"

Slamming the door shut in a sudden fit of temper, she glared balefully at it, pondering the wisdom of kicking the refrigerator versus a couple of days hobbling around on a bruised foot. Moodily shoving a hand through her thick mane, Sheila spun on her heel and with hunger forgotten, stalked into the living room. Pausing only to kick off her battered shoes, she flopped down face first onto the comfy couch that could easily accommodate two people lying side by side and pulled up a tattered fleece throw that had strange yet beautiful swirling symbols on it over her back. Snuggling deep into its comforting warmth, Sheila inhaled deeply, the woodsy smell of the throw down permeating her nose.

Wriggling around until she had found a spot that supported her in such a way that it felt like she was in a loving embrace, Sheila sighed softly before loosing herself again in her reflections. How long it had been since she had a civil conversation, she didn't know. Hell, she couldn't even remember the last time someone had even smiled at her with real warmth and not fake sincerity. But if she concentrated carefully, she could dredge up images of her mother… her fun loving mother who always had accepted her daughter's unique needs. Had it really been 10 years ago she had died leaving her still struggling daughter alone?

Shaking her head mentally to withdraw herself out of dangerous territory that she didn't need to be going into right now, Sheila switched her attentions to other things, namely that of sleep. Her body was nearly begging for rest as she had been out in the garden all morning, tending the flowers, and she had a rather uncomfortable case of sunburn, something that always happened even with the numerous slathering on of sunscreens hour after hour. Closing her eyes, Sheila allowed her muscles to relax and peaceful nothingness to carry her off to dreamland.

With soft click clackings as their toenails hit against the floor, the dogs, either alone or in pairs, crept into the room and carefully moved over to their mistress. Fu, a large male Bernese Mountain Dog, was the dominant one, and easily shouldered aside the smaller and subordinate dogs, fluidly clambering up onto the couch with the ease of some one who has done this for a long time. Long fur swishing softly as he settled beside Sheila's sleeping form; he stared down at the others with an air of regality. The less dominant dogs weren't as sure of their status, and as a result, their were some raised hackles and muffled growlings as they postured at each other, each striving to be the next top dog.

However, due to long experience, the dogs kept their antics quiet, mindful not to awaken Sheila. It had happened one time in the past, and for the first time in their lives, the dogs had received a scolding. Never having to raise her voice before or adopt an angry tone, the dogs, within moments, were whimpering, groveling, and otherwise begging for her forgiveness.

A few of the other larger dogs, as well, pushed their way through and piled on top of each other and as close to Sheila as they could get and still not be merged with her. Gradually, the other dogs settled their differences and with contented grunts, crawled up onto the couch, again, in as close contact as possible. Soon all nine dogs had piled onto each other in a cozy mess, and the air rang with the noisy din of hearty doggie snores.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own Sheila, her dog, and Btl Jfl. Nothing else! **

For those of you who have requested a copy of BJ and Sheila's stats, I will be sending you these ASAP. Thank you for your patience!

Jade, this one is for you! I stopped writing because I lost motivation and interest. I didn't like where the plot was going and quite frankly I was disgusted with the quality of my writing. After months of thinking about it, I have come up with a better plot line and armed with a better grasp of grammar, I'm taking up the story again. Hope that answers your question!


	4. The Landing Or Crashing really

Well, here's the 4th chapter with some of the action I promised! Nothing too major yet (in my opinion) but we'll see! In this chapter, we start first with Sheila's point of view, then I put a breaker in to denotate where the PoV switches over to Bti Jfl so for those of you who have been waiting for "BJ" to reenter the scene.. rejoice! Whoot, this one is definitely my longest chapter yet! Like it? Love it? Hate it? Please tell me! I need feedback! I'm thinking I need a beta, but why don't y'all let me know! And now...I proudly present to you: The Landing...err..Crashing.

(Warning: Contains swearing and descriptive gore)

* * *

**Roughly 4 hours and 45 minutes later (dun dun dun dun!)**

Sheila awoke with a start, body twitching instinctively to keep balanced although she was in no danger of falling. Lying there in the darkness with eyes blinking rapidly, Sheila tried to remember what it had been that had woken her up. Almost immediately, her answer came to her in the form of a cold nose poking her feet under the covers. Jumping, a squeak escaped her mouth at the unpleasant contact even as she curled her legs under her. Hands snatching at the heavy fleece blanket, she jerked it up and peered into the darkness underneath it even through she couldn't see squat. Reaching under, she groped around for whatever it had been that had been nosing her feet.

When warm fur came into contact with her skin, she convulsively grabbed at the skin and stifling a triumphant yell as she felt the entity squirm frantically to get free, she hauled her unfortunate victim out into the scant light of the moon that filtered in through the windows. Benny, with a pitiful and begging glint in his dark eyes, hung from her grasp, body curled up into a submissive posture, not unlike that of a pup being carried by his mother. Stub of a tail timidly waving, he made a high-pitched puppy noise that went unheard by the deaf woman, but she felt his pathetic entreaty by the vibrations that rumbled through his skin.

Tilting her head, Sheila regarded the pup with a curious eye before poking his pink tummy with her free hand. "Don't tell me your nanny forgot to take you out before you went to bed."

The soft murmur was enough to send him into a delighted fit of wriggling, suspended in the air as he was, forcing Sheila to support his bottom with her other hand, lest he drop from her somewhat loose grasp. Sighing heavily and cursing whatever gods there were for waking her up on this cold night, the somewhat bedraggled woman rolled over, and not particularly caring if she woke up the other dogs, dropped onto the floor with a distinctively loud "thump." Immediately, she had leapt up and grabbed at the blanket, shivering. Jesus…since when had her floor gotten so cold! Giving an squinty-eyed scowl at the pup still cocooned safely in her arms, she mumbled, "This had better be the last time Benny. You're a big boy and you don't need your nanny or me to help you go potty." Her grumbling tone was ruined by the soft smile that graced her face.

Benny just snuggled deeper into her arms, his trusting eyes staring adoringly up at her face. Shaking her head at his irascible nature, she plodded through the kitchen, years of practice guiding her even through the room was pitch black. Not paying any attention to the few dogs that had managed to rouse themselves and even now were stumbling after her, she briskly marched over to the door, and after undoing the 4 locks she had, (one could never be too sure in this time and place) opened the door. Gritting her teeth as bitingly cold air nipped her exposed extremities, Sheila hesitated only long enough to slip on some fuzzy light blue slippers kept beside the door for such purposes as this, then stepped outside. In her arms, Benny wriggled frantically to be put down, partly by the pressure being exerted on his bladder and partly because some other dogs had spilled out, and unmindful of the cold, were playing with each other despite the darkness. With a grin, the sturdily built woman stooped and opened her arms, allowing the hyper terrier to emit a shrill yap as he took off like a dart for his favorite 'watering' brush.

Gathering the blanket closer around her form, Sheila moved to the edge of the porch steps and leaned against a post, silvery hair gleaming in the moonlight. Inhaling the crisp night air deeply, Sheila couldn't resist a small smile from slipping onto her face as she tilted her head back. In what was now one of her favorite nightly activities, if she actually stayed awake long enough, she watched the beautiful stars, twinkling merrily down on her from their place in the heavens. Sweeping her eyes across the star studded sky, she mentally named each constellation as she came across them, cataloguing their relative positions and calculating as to where their new positions would be come the following night.

One star in particular caught her attention: far apart from the others which were grouped together in clusters, the lone star shone feebly, its light somewhat subdued by the bright glaring light overcast by the others, but strong in its own right nonetheless. Feeling a rueful smile twist her lips, Sheila could feel quite a bit of sympathy extend to the lone star, for in its loneness, she saw herself. Quickly shaking her head to clear it of any gloomy thoughts, Sheila frowned slightly. Self-pity wasn't going to help her any more than the townspeople… she had done it before on her own, and she would continue to do as she pleased…on her own. Feeling somewhat better at that thought, Sheila tilted her chin upwards again, searching for the solitary star. What she saw made her gape in astonishment.

To the far left of the lone star, a burning…. something had appeared out of nowhere. At first glance, she thought it to be a meteor, but its erratic course proved otherwise. It wasn't a shooting star because in all her years of stargazing, Sheila had never seen a star turn white, red, orange and back, all within 10 seconds. Raptly watching the spectacle, she didn't notice as the dogs, previously chasing each other had now stopped and was standing with their hackles raised and bristling. Rumbling growls were issuing from behind bared teeth and every muscle was tensed. Interestingly enough, all the canine eyes were directed up to the celestial bodies, almost as if they sensed what was coming.

After a second, Sheila had to turn away and rub her eyes, not believing what her sight was telling her, for in the scant seconds she had been staring at it, it had increased in size substantially, suggesting extremely high speeds. Now she thought she could make out a few details, but half convinced she was hallucinating, dismissed it as a figment of her rather vivid imagination. Where its course had once been wavering, it had now straightened out and was headed strai- "OH SHIT!"

Her half yelled, half shrieked obscenity had all the dogs leaping a foot straight up into the air, so tense were they. Now growling and snapping at the air with bared muzzles like rabid animals, normally placid dark eyes were now rolled back in sheer terror as the dogs, half crazed with fear, milled around their trembling owner who seemed transfixed to the spot. Even through her body was in one spot, her brain wasn't, instead, sprinting from place to place inside her mind. Abruptly snapping herself back to without any hint of what she had been thinking previously, she ordered the dogs in, managing to keep the frightened note out of her voice. Without any of the previous gentleness she had shown her beloved pets earlier, she began herding them to the door, using hands, feet, and the harsh sound of her voice to further reinforce her command.

Without too much resistance, she got all of them into the kitchen, and flipping the lights on, looked around wildly, counting the harem of dogs that here huddling as close to each other as humanly possible. "_One..four, six,seven, eight." _Her eyes suddenly widened as a sudden memory of seeing the multicolored rascal, known and loved by everyone in his pack, run into the garden to do his business, floated before her mind's eye. "_OH NO! BENNY!"_

Without further thought, she spun around on her heel, and not bothering to hold onto the blanket, raced out the door, her desperate voice shattering the eerie stillness with its anguished scream. "BEENNNYYYY!"

* * *

It was with blaring alarms and a mechanized voice calmly warning of impact within several filku that Bti Jfl came back to consciousness. Somewhat disoriented, the gigantic yautja laid there for a few seconds, trying to remember why he was lying on the floor and just why in the seven pauk-de hells were there warning signals and shrill klaxons sounding? Squinting his reddish pink eyes in concentration, he tilted his head, listening to the somewhat frantic computerized voice that were yammering meaningless statistics and measurements, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. When enlightenment finally came, and that was only because the computer had shrieked something along the lines of "Collision with u within 20 decia," with something akin to panic in its tone, his reaction was instantaneous.

Without any trace of injury or pain that may have lingered from his recent head bashing, the veteran warrior leapt to his feet, already roaring out a command at the computer even as he hurtled forward, immensely long legs closing the gap between him and the computer in two steps. Clawed hands flying across the face of the dying modem, he struggled to regain control of the plunging starship, hoping against hope that his strength as a mighty warrior would deter the Black Warrior from taking him. He wasn't afraid at the prospect of death, even embraced the idea of going out fighting to the last, but pauk! He hadn't thought he wouldn't be bowing down before the Black Warrior at so young an age... never having touched a female… Damn it all!

Occupied as he was in his thoughts, he didn't notice as the ship responded to his frantic piloting, lifting its nose up somewhat and altering its course by a few degrees. Not much, but just enough to at least have the ship land on her belly in the crash that Bti Jfl, by now, knew was inevitable.

With a final squeal as the computer at last died, this time for real, thousands of super hot sparks flew up again, even more impressive than the earlier ones that had burned the predator. He, however, had been prepared for that, and jumped back, mentally thanking the Goddess for gifting him with cat-like reflexes, which had almost certainly saved him from agonizing burns over much of his upper body. In his evasion route, however, he had failed to take an obstacle into his calculations, and he was painfully reminded of that fact when his back collided with the pilot's chair. While not painful in the least to say, it did catch him off balance and with a dull "BOOM" crashed into it. The chair, being designed for yautja with far less bulk than him, promptly snapped like a twig under the burly weight of Bti Jfl leaving him bowled over, bare feet sticking straight up into the air. If the situation hadn't been life threatening, he would have found it somewhat amusing, but right now, it was just infuriating. First, the ship had been hit, leaving his systems on critical status. Then he had been knocked out, and now this?

With an effortless twist that would have left a professional contortionist green with envy, he rolled out of the chair, and quickly directed a quick glance up at the infrared screen that was the window to the outside. The sight had his eyes widening and a hideous bellow escaping from underneath his beautifully etched mask as he spun around and dove to the side, close to where he normally stored his weapons. A nano-second later, a massive tree branch punched through the opaque material, sending shards of the glass-like material scattering everywhere. The ship bucked violently at the impact, protesting the tree's pitiful attempt at stopping its momentum, rattling the male's mandibles together until he thought they had snapped from the sheer force.

But that was not all as the ship plowed determinedly through the trees, leaving a scorching trail of blackened and flaming trees and a path wide enough to easily accommodate 4 elephants standing side by side through the forestry. As the spacecraft landed in an ungraceful manner, it punched through tree trunks as if they weren't there, sending the canopy crashing down on the hull and leaving numerous dents in its place.

Tumbling around the smallish space head over heels, the hapless male was powerless to act, too far from the controls to do anything, as if that would do any good. With a ferocious growl emitting from deep within his bull like chest, Bti Jfl threw out an arm, and digging his claws deep into the floor, managed to stop his willy nilly rolling long enough to raise his torso off the floor. At that precise second, the battered craft struck the ground, sending everything into chaos.

Plowing through the ground and leaving a path behind it 6 feet deep, the ship screeched like a dying animal and turned a full 180 degrees so its belly was lying face up, rather like a fish that had recently died. Inside, the sole occupant, already somewhat dazed by the vicious way the ship had landed, was helpless to act as his form fell from floor to ceiling. Landing with a massive "SWLETCH" the white male arched suddenly, a keening roar of pain blasting from his throat, leaving it raw and hurting. Raising his now heavy head, he, through pain dulled eyes, slowly directed his gaze down to his lower torso where phosphorus green blood, registering as pale red in his vision, dripped off the leg of the chair that he had snapped earlier and now was protruding from his belly, having entered through the back and punching its way to the front and out in a shower of gore.

Miraculously, the post of the chair had narrowly missed hitting his spine and clearly the majority of the major organs, through he really couldn't see how given the unbelievable agony he was in. Various other wounds decorated his pale skin, results of flying debris and the shattered glass, but even the most severe wounds of his paled in comparison to his gut wound, both in pain and magnitude.

As the ship shuddered to a halt, at long last, the jarring movement jolted his body, driving it further down the post with a sickening sound. With another tortured scream, Bti Jfl finally lost his battle with the beckoning darkness, sinking down into blessed oblivion, free from any pain.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own Sheila, her dogs, and the characteristics of Bti Jfl. Everything else is copyrighted to their respective creators.**

Please let me know of your opinions! Anything to do with grammar, spelling, or misusage, PLEASE tell me! I'm trying to improve my english language so yeah... Thankies!

In case you were wondering, yes, I wrote that Bti Jfl had white skin. If you request for the stats in your review along with your e-mail, you'll know why he's colored so uniquely!

**Translations:**

**Decia- earth equalivient is 40 seconds** ** Filku- Earth equalivent is 1 minute** ** Pauk- Fk** ** Pauk-de- Fking**


	5. BENNY! I SWEAR!

I hate writer's block. I've rewritten this chapter so many times I've lost count and I still hate it. Unfortunately this is another bit of filler chapter and I know I promised to put some Sheila/BJ action here but I couldn't make it fit in a logical manner. However there will be Sheila/BJ action in the next chapter even if I have to super glue myself to the chair to do it. Thank you so much for your patience!

Mild language in here.. you have been warned!

Disclaimer: Predator is copyrighted to its respective creator(s) but I own Sheila, her dogs, and the characteristics of BJ.

* * *

In retrospect of all that had happened, Sheila had to admit that tearing out the door while yelling Benny's name like a crazed sugar addict hadn't been the smartest thing to do. Hell, nothing she had done that night had been the cleverest thing to do. Dohhh! This was the last time she took Benny out… from now on it was either go out the dog door or hold it until morning!

But run she did, half stumbling in the dark and ignoring the stabs of pain that came from tender feet running over stony ground as she sprinted toward the garden, mentally chanting all the prayers she could dredge up from the deepest depths of her memory. At the same time, she yelled desperately for the small pup, hoping against hope that he hadn't run into the forest. If he had… well Sheila wasn't going to think about that. She just had to pray that he had remained in the garden and was simply hiding.

Too frantic to bother fumbling around with the latch that held the gate securely shut; she simply leapt the fence, fear lending her strength to make the jump cleanly. Looking around the spacious expanse wildly, she cursed herself for having decided to grow such a lush garden, making all sorts of hiding places that such a rascal like Benny could seek refuge in. Unable to hear anything thanks to the fact that she had forgotten her speech processor in the living room, Sheila dropped to her hands and knees, not caring in the least that moist dirt and small stones were rubbing painfully at her extremities. All that mattered at the minute was finding Benny and getting back into the house with the rest of the dogs.

Peering under the assorted bushes, she was unmindful of the sharp branches that clawed at her face, leaving red angry marks on her fair skin and snagged at her hair, leaving tendrils of the silky strands standing upright. Scuttling along on all four with her bottom stuck rather comically up in the air, Sheila was so intent on finding her lost pup that she narrowly missed bashing the trunk of an apple tree head-on. Blinking in bewilderment as to how that particular tree trunk had gotten there, she almost missed the multicolored form that huddled in a small hollow just under an upraised root. When the mysterious entity trembled and curled into an even tighter ball, Sheila blinked again, her panic-ridden mind struggling to place a name with the critter.

_Benny!_

Grabbing at the puppy, she managed to get a hold of his stubby tail and with a yank, reeled him out into sight. At the sight of his dirty mistress who possessed a crazed glint in her eyes and was panting like a bellows, Benny kay-ki'ed with fright and tried to scrabble back into the dubious safety of his hidey hole. Again, he was dragged out and this time, held in the air by the loose skin on his neck. Instincts kicking in, he became still and curled up, hind legs tucking between his dangling forepaws, remaining in this position even after Sheila had changed her grip on him to a tender two armed cradle and had clutched him to her chest, squeezing him to the point where his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

Mentally thanking every deity she could think of for finding her beloved pup, Sheila staggered to her feet, and not daring to glance up at the sky, dashed back to the front of the garden, stumbling and cursing vilely as one of her toes was painfully stubbed against a protruding piece of masonry. Forcing her mind on other more important things such as getting back into the house, she ignored the throbbing pain that flared in her abused toe. Repeating the same stunt she had pulled earlier by leaping over the fence, this time with scant inches to spare, Sheila continued her headlong hurdle back to the sanctuary of her house.

In light of all that had happened to the poor frazzled woman, it was a shame really that she was only a few scant feet away from reaching the porch when the ship hit.

At first, it was a scorching blast as the ship passed overhead, so intense in its dry heat that sweat immediately sprang from her pores, despite the chilly night air. Right after that, it was a rumbling roar that Sheila could feel deep in her bones even through she couldn't hear the thunderous roar of the dying engines. But the worst was yet to come: when the massive ship hit the ground, a ear-splitting screech, that left Benny and the dogs within the house howling in pain as their sensitive hearing was assailed, emitted as the space craft plowed through the rocky soil, shoving aside trees and vegetation alike with equal ease. In accompaniment to the hideous noise, the entire ground shook and roiled in protest, sending Sheila tumbling straight to the ground.

At the last minute however, she twisted enough that her side took the brunt of the impact instead of the fragile pup that was nestled close to her heart. Teeth rattling in her head as she landed hard, her terrified eyes darted into the woods, not really believing the fact that she could see the glowing of the downed ship, only 500 yards into the forest. Or….rather what was left of her beloved forest.

Not daring to move an inch, she watched with slack jaws as the craft finally skidded to a halt, nearly hidden by all the debris that had rained down on it. Soon silence had once descended over the clearing again, save for the sound of Sheila's rapid panting. If her will and self discipline had been any less focused than it was, the poor young woman probably would have had fainted 3 times over. Even now, she had to fight back the urge to just curl up into a fetal position and turn into a yammering idiot who did nothing but suck on her thumb every chance she got.

But heaven knew she deserved the chance to break down, even if only for a minute or two. After all... she just had a friggin' ship land in her own backyard! Okay, maybe it landed in a _very _broad sense of the term, but the concept still was the same!

A. Ship. Was. In. Her. Back. Yard. And it had nearly destroyed a city block worth of trees! Ohhh someone was going to pay for this.

Caught up in her frenzied thoughts, Sheila was too preoccupied to realize she had loosened her death grip on Benny, and he, being the curious and bold thing he was, had very quickly gotten over his fear of the strange thing that had arrived on his territory in such an explosive fashion. Sensing his mother wasn't paying attention; he seized the opportunity and deftly wriggled out from Sheila's grasp with the air of an experienced veteran who had done these sort of things countless times in the past. As soon as his small paws hit the somewhat singed grass, he zipped off, this time to Sheila's extreme horror, straight for the woods.

Surging to her bare feet, Sheila lunged after the wayward pup, arms stretching out as if she could magically teleport the fleeing pup back into her arms. Without any thought for her safety, the woman sprinted after the elusive 4 legged figure, alternatively mumbling under her breath about how he was going to get chained to the house twenty-four hours, seven days and crying out his name until her voice grew hoarse from all the rough mistreatment she was putting her vocal cords through.

* * *

Still looking for a beta reader. As always please give me constructive critisim on the story! 


	6. What the? A body?

Whoo ho! The 6th chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the long delay.. school and work is taking its toll on me, leaving me precious little time to work on this. At 6 pages, this is my longest chapter ever and I hope you will enjoy... Sheila doesn't quite "meet" with Bti Jfl in this chapter, but it's close enough according to my definition! Artistic license baby! yeah!

indicates POV change

_italics _indicate thoughts

**bold **indicates speaking

Yeah.. Disclaimer: Predator belongs to whoever owns it, but Sheila, her dogs, and the name/characteristics of Btj JFl are copyrighted to me!

* * *

Pain twisted his world into muddled shades of eerie reds and blacks, undulating and blending in a nauseating paradox of a light show that flickered rapidly across his eyelids. Struggling to breathe through the iron bands of agony that constricted around his broad ribcage and extended up and down the length of his torso, Bti Jfl slowly opened his eyes, once sharp and vibrant, now dulled and cloudy from the pain and shock of having a post rammed through his torso only seconds ago… or had it been longer since he had been out?

Not really inclined to sit (or lie on top of a pole in his case) and ponder about the sobering thought as to _just_ how long he had been out, the male, through years of self discipline and sheer determination, pushed down the waves of pain which, thankfully, had dulled down to an insistent throbbing pain instead of the gut wrenching agony that had been coursing through his system earlier. Finally able to assess the rest of his wounds, he was relieved to discover that his wounds weren't as bad as they were at first glance. Oh, a couple would have to be cauterized shut and possibly stitched to further promote the healing process, and that big shard of metal definitely needed to come out of his right biceps…. Actually, make those three shards; two that were lodged parallel to each other and a third one that was stuck perilously close to a major artery in his lower arm.

Okay so his injuries were a little more serious than he had originally thought.

The rest of his self-examination found little else to offer him any comfort. Somehow, he had managed to dislocate his left shoulder, probably done when he had dug in his claws to stop his tumbling around and now his entire arm hung at an awkward angle that was disturbing to see. To boot, he could feel some broken and cracked ribs that added to the unpleasant feeling of being slowly suffocated. _Just wonderful._

How Bti Jfl was able to register all of that was a mystery to him because his infrared based vision was showing that his body was running a fever, somewhat unusual for his species, but not unheard of, and as a result, his skin was radiating more heat than normal, making it all the harder for him to discern exactly what sort of injuries he had sustained and to what extent.

Too caught up in his grim assessments to really pay attention to his surroundings, it really was understandable from a bystander's point of view that the albino yautja missed the tiny four legged form that slipped into the room from a door off to the left. Its heat signature was concealed almost to the point of obscurity by the roiling mists that had blanketed what was once the floor of his ship and had rapidly migrated to its new home, that of the ceiling which had been turned into a floor. Flitting from spot to spot, the mysterious being drew even closer to the disabled male that sprawled out, the light clicking of blunt claws on hard floor the only indication of the animal's approach.

Bti Jfl, distracted as he was by the extent of his wounds, nonetheless wasn't immune to the oppressive feeling of suspense that had permeated throughout the ship. Instinctively sliding into the mind mode of a hunter, the male looked up, mandibles flaring wide and exposing the fleshy parts of his inner mouth, covered as it was within the confines of his mask. An aggressive rattling growl rolled up within deep within his chest, a note of defiant challenge evident in the bone chilling sound and adding to the hunter's menacing image. Eerie pinkish red eyes darted around the space that surrounded him on all sides, expecting to see a potential adversity looming over him with bared claws and fangs, eager to finish off the wounded and vulnerable yautja. The entire time he was doing this, it never dawned on him that his enemy could possibly be close to the ground, hidden amongst the swirling mists. After all, he was used to hunting creatures that were as large as him or even larger, and nearly all of said prey possessed violate temperaments and had a nasty tendency to immediately attack should an opportunity present itself.

Puzzled at this turn of events, Bti Jfl growled again, a note of confusion evident in the rough sound. Okay. Either his mind had concocted the feeling that he was being watched, or he had gone insane. Considering that Bti Jfl was not someone to make up things, even in the sanctuary of his mind, it was highly possible he had lost his mind, something rather disheartening for a yautja who prided himself on his skill and intelligence.

Grumbling, the yautja shifted, momentarily forgetting about the teensy weensy tiny little fact that he was currently on top of a shaft that was poking up through his flesh. He was rapidly reminded of that fact as the pain flared up anew, radiating outwards from his abdomen as the torn muscles grated against the pole and the exposed endings of severed nerves twitched, trying to respond to his brain's commands. Clamping his mandibles shut, Bti Jfl barely kept the sound that burned in his throat from emerging as a full blown roar of agony, but instead settled for an anguished sound that was partly a shriek and partly a coughing growl.

**Lick. **

Immediately all thoughts of his misery flew out the window as he reflexively jerked his clawed feet back, away from whatever had…touched him. _What the unholy pauk?_ Craning his head, the male peered around the green stained rod, trying to see what had left such a disgustingly slimy mess on his foot. Cursing his limited vision even with the mask on, Bti Jfl snarled warningly at whatever lurked around his feet, daring it to just try for another swipe at him.

The response came in the form of another attack, this time on his right hand. Within scant seconds, the white hand was covered with warm salvia and despite his incredibly fast reflexes, Bti Jfl still hadn't laid a hand on the unseen perpetrator. In all his years as a hunter, he had never heard of such a creature that possessed so much speed, but he had to wonder why the predator had yet to inflict any pain on him. Unless… The yautja's eyes widened as he realized that the salvia that the creature had lavished upon his hand and foot must have some sort of poison that, even now, was sinking into his flesh and beginning the process of slowly liquefying him from the inside out.

_Well…. Cijit. What a way to meet the Black Warrior. _Now resigned to his imminent fate, the proud yautja, one of the most feared warriors in his age group, snarled softly before lying his head back down on the floor. Really, what more could he do? Both of his arms were disabled, and he couldn't go anywhere courtesy of the beam that was still stuck in his gut. To attempt to remove the stake would result in death because he couldn't move his arms and reach his med-kit, that was, if he hadn't already passed out from the pain alone.

When he felt the tiny weight settle on his broad and bull like chest, dangerously close to one of his broken ribs, he didn't even react beyond another faint growl that escaped from underneath his mask despite his best intentions.

He didn't pay attention as the small animal lowered its head. He didn't pay attention when a tongue shot out and swiped across the lower bottom of his mask, leaving a trail of warm slobber in its wake. He didn't pay attention as the animal wriggled around, jiggling his sore ribs.

He, however, was paying attention when the ooman walked in.

* * *

_Jesus H. Christ. _That was the only thought that ran through the awed woman's head as she ran a hand over the elaborate pattern that swirled across the walls and seemed to glow with an unearthly light. _So this is what the government has been doing with my tax dollars._

Flashback

After she had chased Benny into the forest, she had lost sight of him but she had a strong suspicion that she knew where he was heading. Curious about everything that moved in his territory, Benny always had to investigate new objects and as such, he just had to go and check out this potential play object. _Bloody stupid half-arsed dog_.

Fairly certain of Benny's designation, Sheila had turned around, and stumbling on tender feet, had run back to the house to grab a pair of sneakers and a flashlight. She had grabbed her speech processor as well, putting it in a pouch that slipped over her pajama pants. Hopping on one foot then the other, she struggled to get her shoes on, and as soon as that was done, she had headed back to where she had lost Benny. Again. Honestly that dog was asking for a good cuffing around the ears and possibly a couple of weeks of remaining on a chain whenever he went outside.

Pushing all thoughts of Benny's punishment to the back of her mind with the sentiment that in order to successfully administer the punishment, the said punishee had to be found first. Switching on her flashlight, Sheila headed toward the faint glow where the ship had landed, occasionally calling out Benny's name and adding a curse or two to her cajolements.

As she neared the crash site, she began to notice the blackened foliage around her and how the branches above her head had been snapped clean through. And these were no slight branches, ready to snap at a minute's note. Pausing at one such branch that had plummeted to the ground and still had some smoldering leaves, she idly noted that the base of the branch was as thick as the circumference of her shapely thighs.

Faint barking had Sheila swinging her flashlight around, a hopeful look on her face. "Benny?" Her voice echoed almost eerily in the stillness. After the barking had faded away and there was still no sign of Benny, Sheila huffed. Oh yeah, that dog was going to be chained to the house for a looong time.

Cautiously threading her way through the debris and still calling Benny's name every now and then, Sheila swung her flashlight around, hoping to spot a flash of white or at the very least, some evidence of his passage. What she saw was not any of that, but rather a smooth wall that… shimmered, flickering so for an instant transparent space was all she saw then an inorganic shape erupted into being, blue sparks of electricity racing up from the ground. As the sparks darted up, more and more of the white expanse was revealed, fading in from invisibility. Before Sheila's now bulging eyes, an entire ship appeared right out of midair and she unconsciously took a step backwards, head craning up as she took in the enormous magnitude of the ship. "Holy….shit…." She breathed incredulously.

Oh yeah… this had to be some sort of secret government project… a helluva project that was for sure. Concern for the occupants of the ship flared up for an instant but was ruthlessly squashed by the notion that whoever was within the confines of the ship probably had been well protected from the effects of the crash. Resentment and anger quickly took the place of her concern; yeah, whoever was inside the ship was probably all toasty safe and everything whereas her forest was devastated, her dogs probably suffering from heart attacks, and her own heart threatening to burst, so rapidly was it beating. Yes… someone was going to pay for all of this… all the way down to Sheila's therapy bills.

So caught up in her indignant thoughts and swearing, Sheila didn't notice the ramp that rested on the ground about a hundred yards to her right until a faint yelping bark brought her head twisting around. Blinking at the entrance owlishly, Sheila looked around cautiously, not quite sure of the direction from which Benny's call had come. Her unspoken question was answered when another bark came, this time echoing for a split second, from within interiors of the ship. Glancing nervously around, Sheila bit her lip indecisively. What if the government came and took her away for having gone into a ship of theirs? Steely resolve to recover her puppy welled up and with a defiant tilt of her chin; Sheila marched up the ramp, heading into the dark pit. As she reached the peak, a wave of humid hot air hit her as well as an eerie mist that billowed out, twirling around her calves much like a hungry cat begging for its daily ration of milk. Faltering momentarily, Sheila paused at the lip of the doorway, peering down the hallway that she had thought would be dark but instead glowed with an orange red light, illuminating the walls.

These walls, she noted, were covered in their entirety with foreign symbols, somewhat resembling hieroglyphics. Running an awed hand over the wall and feeling the intricate decorations, Sheila marveled at how warm and throbbing the wall felt, almost as it was a pulsing heart circulating lifeblood around the body. Finally moving deeper into the bowels of the ship, the deaf woman kept her gaze on the walls, trying to see if she could decipher any thing. At college, she had studied several languages: Latin, Swahili, and Japanese in addition to her native English and sign language. None of these symbols remotely matched anything she had read about, leading her to suspect that the ship had been constructed in another country entirely… maybe Egypt? Her firm belief, however, that the government had a hand in this remained unwavering, even in the face of this new evidence.

Caught up in her musings, she barely noticed as she moved into a relatively large room, only stopping when her hand no longer ran along the warm surface of the walls. Tilting her head so her silvery blonde hair fell over one shoulder in an innocent gesture, Sheila curiously gazed around the room. Appearing to be the place where the pilots steered the ship, for there was a large window that wrapped around the front of the room and offered a rather excellent view of the destroyed forest and what appeared to be a control panel directly underneath the window, nearly obscured what with all the shattered glass covering it. Edging over to the control panel carefully, mindful of the shards of glasses that crunched underneath her feet even through she couldn't see it, Sheila eased up to the panel, staring down at it with surprise and shock. What she had surmised to be burnt leaves and sticks that had been forced in through the broken window and shoved into the unfortunate panel was instead snapped wiring, sticking up and out of their protective casings. Interestingly enough, the entire panel was nearly untouched save for the massive hole in front of her. Too large to be from a human arm, but too small to be from a tree trunk or branch punching through it, the opening into the machinery below looked ominous, and Sheila shuddered before backing away from it. It definitely gave her the creeps to look at what might have been the source of the crash and possibly what had killed the pilots. A sudden thought occurred to her and she frowned. Say… what _had _happened to the pilots of the ship? Surely she would have seen some sign of them by now or at least heard them.

Refusing to think about what would happen if she didn't find them alive, Sheila turned away, hand automatically going to her hair and tugging it nervously, something she always did when stressed or thinking hard about something. Her vacant gaze fixed on a pole that was mottled with an unusual neon green that almost seemed to glow with its own light. Half-heartedly smiling at what she thought to be some whacked technician's weird sense of humor, she took a step closer and was nearly frightened out of her wits by the sudden ambush. Stifling a gasp as Benny's tiny form hurtled against her leg, baby teeth viciously gnawing at her muddied and battered tennis shoe; she swooped down and grabbing the pup by the scruff of his neck, hoisted him up into the air. Benny, instead of looking repentant, wriggled happily, dark eyes shining with excitement and tiny whimpers of joy escaping from his fragile body that his momma apparently wanted to explore the strange thing with him. Suppressing the childish urge to throttle half the life out of Benny, Sheila settled for a half hearted shake before cuddling the puppy tightly to her chest, a hand hooked firmly around the baby blue collar that encircled Benny's neck. "Grah.. Benny I swear you are going to give me grey hair by the time I'm 30."

Turning around so she faced the pole that had been painted a bright green, Sheila froze. Surely…that white flash… had she just seen something move…? "H-hello?"

Her tentatively voiced question echoed eerily in the silence, broken only by the soft humming of the walls as they throbbed in that incessant rhythm that had been present since she entered the ship. The hair on the back of her neck bristling, Sheila squinted, trying to see just what it had been that had spooked her so. Slowly, so gradually, she almost didn't notice, the mists dispersed, moving away from the green stained pole until nearly all of the Yautja, save for his upper torso, head and lower legs, had been revealed.

When it finally registered that she was looking at a body, she made a choked sound, stumbling back and clutching Benny even tighter. _OH MY GOD! THERE'S A DEAD BODY RIGHT THERE! _On the verge of hyperventilating, Sheila took in panting breaths, looking at what had to be the largest person she had seen in her entire life lying eagled spread and impaled on the stake with the green stains. After several long moments in which she convinced her petrified body that it was safe to move, Sheila slid forward an half step, the better to see the poor person who had obviously died a painful death. Wearing what seemed to be an oddly configured suit that consisted of white with faint black markings scattered all over and metal plates attached here and there to various parts of the suit, the entire ensemble was covered in a fishlike net. Shaking her head at the oddity of the government's choices in body wear, Sheila did have to admit that even for a dead man, this guy was ripped. From a broad chest that slimmed into a washboard adobmen then flared out again into a thick yet shapely hip and joined to two thighs that, pressed together, was larger than the thickness of her body, whoever this person had been, he had been eating his veggies and working out. _My god._

Never once did it enter her head: just why government officials would require their pilots to wear such strange clothing that obviously was not the average pilot uniform? And why would they be wearing a mask that covered every inch of their face? And whoever would wear their hair in such an odd fashion?

Not asking these questions before approaching the body was a mistake as she would find out soon enough.

* * *

This was edited and updated on Jan. 7, 2008 


	7. The Meeting?

-dies of heart attack- OMG! I actually updated?! –checks outside to see if the world is ending- Well I'll be! O.O After a long absence from the Predator genre, I've finally decided to try and give this story another go again.

Um. This chapter is dedicated to Sonsasu the Winter Dragon as not only has she written a LARGE chunk of this chapter (and I don't think I could have begun this chapter without her help), she is such a good friend and good author! Thanks Sonsasu, for all you did!

* * *

When the ooman had first walked in, Bti Jfl had barely suppressed the surprised rattle that threatened to escape from him, rose-red eyes narrowing in both anger and confusion. Had his ship's interior hull been so damaged by the impact that this puny thing had actually gained entrance? If that was the case, it didn't bode well for Bti Jfl's future as the ship's hull and heat shields had to be flawless in order to survive both the entry into and exit from a planet's atmosphere. If they were damaged…well, he was not going to think about that, he had concerns that were more pressing on his mind right now. Such as getting the pauking ooman along and that pauking four-legged zabin off his ship, get the pauking pole out of his torso, and get his pauking wounds stitched and cauterized before he pauking bled out to death. 

Nope, Bti Jfl was not having a good day.

Immersed as he was in his dour thoughts, he didn't even notice as the tiny thing leapt off his chest and scurried over to the ooman where the small animal was scooped up. He did take notice when the ooman uttered a strange noise, harsh and unappealing to his ears. His ever present mask whirred almost inaudibly as it picked up the unintelligible noise the ooman had uttered and translated it into language he could understand. Nearly snorting as he finally realized the soft meat had greeted him, albeit in a fearful and unsure manner, in the manner of its kind, the male hunter resisted the urge to lash out at the disgusting animal that had actually dared to move closer to his prone body. It was one thing to have the ooman trespass on his ship but it was another thing entirely to actually allow it to come anywhere near his form, immobile as he might be.

Maintaining his still form with the practiced experience of a hunter born and bred, Bti Jfl watched with narrowed eyes as the ooman took another hesitant step closer; two more steps, he calculated, and it'd be within reach of his cruelly sharp talons.

Another tentative step from the petite ooman.

Holding his breath and steadfastly ignoring the throbbing pain radiating up from the general area surrounding the gore-covered pole, Bti Jfl watched for the perfect opportunity to strike. If he could possibly sever the tendon that attached the foot to the rest of the leg, he might be able to cripple the soft meat, and as humiliating and degrading as it was, have it attend to his injuries. While the idea of letting such weak prey touch him was nauseating, Bti Jfl comforted himself with the thought that after all was said and done, he could kill it in a slow and gruesome manner.

The ooman's finale step positioned it in perfect striking distance.

Bti Jfl tried to flex his clawed hands and immediately regretted in doing so, sharp needles of pain darted along his massive arms, giving him a cruel reminder on how one can forget certain things in the heat of the moment…

Both pauking arms were still disabled!

A small rumbling growl of annoyance escaped him before he could silence it, and the ooman's pathetic ears must have caught the sound, for the small being recoiled, a hand covering its mandible lacking mouth. _"Pauking wonderful…so now what?"_ he mused silently, trying desperately to ignore the slow bloom of a headache forming behind his right eye…

* * *

Sheila kept the wiggling Benny clutched tightly to her chest, all the while her eyes remained glued to the enormous body before her, a body that was supposedly dead a moment ago… She had felt a very faint vibration emerge from the impaled man, reminding her of a dog's low growl, or…perhaps he had groaned? With a wound as severe as that…could the pilot honestly still be alive? Taking a very deep breath to calm rattled nerves, she released it in a slightly jerky whoosh, and decided to retake her former step. 

Leaning forward to try and peer past the thick mists, she frowned when a glint of something shone through. Kneeling beside the broad shoulders, she shifted Benny to her left arm, releasing the other to fan the mists away, which slowly revealed a strange gray mask. Threadlike runes, shaped in a similar manner to swirling lines of calligraphy rose up on the tall forehead, however, one in particular caught Sheila's attention.

Engraved deeply into the metal, it appeared as though someone had taken a tool to carve the strange T shape, leaving the edges of the design not edged and sharp, but smoothly rounded and blunt. If not for the fact that she was almost positive the marking didn't fit in with any of the tribal symbols she had studied in college, she could have sworn it was an inexact replica of the Egyptian hieroglyphics, but its meaning gleefully eluded her. Nearly shaking her head in frustration, Sheila squatted back on her heels so she could better look over the downed pilot, or at least what parts wasn't obscured by the thick mists. Apart from the odd looking mask, "_The government sure have weird tastes' _the pilot was unremarkable except for the incredibly broad shoulders, the ghostly white skintight suit that covered every inch of body that she could see, and _"oh what's that? Dreadlocks?'_

Quirking an eyebrow at the odd habits of government people and their lackeys, Sheila continued her visual examination of the strangle attired pilot, only to stop at the sight of the green stained pole that jutted rather unbecomingly out of the pilot's belly. If it wasn't for the fact that Sheila had seen worse, she might have had to turn away at the horrible sight, but her ever intelligent mind rapidly scanned the situation and came up with an alarming question. '_Wait a minute...normal blood is red. Why isn't this red?' _Freezing for a split second as her mind made the necessary connections in an instant, Sheila unconsciously tightened her grip on Benny, earning her an indignant squeak as delicate bones creaked warningly under her grip. _'Omigod…whatever this thing is… it isn't human…'_

It was at this point the body of the pilot came alive with a guttural and savage roar, massive arm whipping out and striking across her bent knees with incredible force, sending her flying backwards onto her butt with a strangled scream.

* * *

_'I have had enough of this!'_ Body throbbing with constant pain, Bti Jfl was rapidly growing sick of the ooman's continued presence over his downed body. Oh yeah, he was going to be dealing out some pain to the impertinent thing regardless of whether it drove the shards deeper into his arms, further multiplying the danger of hitting a vital artery or vein. If he was going down, then by Centanu, the ooman was going to go down with him! 

Barely surpressing the angry twitching of his mandibles, Bti Jfl focused on regulating his breathing which served to help further calm his fiery temper down. If he was going to strike a fatal blow, he'd have to time this right and nail the prey in the right place.

Thankful for the mask which served to cover up the rose red eyes which continued to track the ooman's short nervous movements, Bti Jfl studied the ooman's structure, trying to determine the best place to administer the blow. _'Not the head... too high up... and definitely not the lower legs... that'd only cripple the ooman. Guts it is then.' _Studiously ignoring the fact that a gut wound was one of the most slowest and agonizing deaths one could offer, Bti Jfl tensed his right arm- the one with all the shards in it- and waited, striving to push away the fresh wave of pain that raced up and down his arm from the unwelcomed movement.

_'NOW!'_

Releasing the bellow of fury that had been building up deep within his chest, Bti Jfl lashed out, wickedly sharp talons glittering for an instant as he swung toward the exposed belly, so fleshy and easy to tear. However, Bti Jfl failed to take one variable into consideration when he was calculating his chances of hitting the ooman: were his muscles going to cooperate when it came time?

The response to that question was a big fat NO as tortured mucles in the shard studded biceps seized up, forcing Bti Jfl's arm to convulse, dropping several inches and making wickedly sharp nails curl into his palm painfully. The result was a shriek from the ooman as his arm struck a glancing blow on the knee joints, sending it tumbling back. Oh it'd be sore for days, he was certain, perhaps even several weeks. But no fatal wound. Dammit.

Almost sourly, Bti Jfl cursed every deity he could think of before allowing his freshly bleeding arm to drop back down to the ground with a 'thunk'.

Yeah. This was a bitch in every form.

* * *

Is there such a hieroglyphic that looks like the stylized T in this? I don't know… I just made it up off the top of my head! 

If you happen to spot any grammar or spelling errors, please point them out to me! I also still am on the market for a potential beta(s) so if you want to preview chapters before they are posted on the internet and are good at proofreading, please shoot me a PM and I'll respond to you ASAP!


	8. Something in Common

…I am crazy for thinking this is going to turn out well… originally intended to be a simple 2 to 4 chapter story, Stranded is turning out to be a massive project unto itself with a completely new plot than the one I had envisioned before. I will be endeavoring to step up my production of the ever so important chapters along with the help of my beta, Sonsasu the Winter Dragon- (shameless plug- go read her stories! They are absolutely hysterical and so refreshingly original!)

I completely forgot to put up disclaimers so here it is- Predator –mournful sob- belongs to whomever created it but any unrecognizable characters are mine. I however don't mind if you want to use one of my characters. I ask only that you tell me beforehand and provide a link to the story so I can follow along!

Warning- this chapter contains some curse words.

'_italics' _is thinking.

"normal" is speaking out loud.

Without further ado… chapter 8 of Stranded!

* * *

Ignoring the stabbing pain in her knees, Sheila scrabbled backwards, free hand and feet frantically working against the floor in an effort to get Benny and her as far away from the…thing as possible. Struggling to not hyperventilate in her panic, the petite woman almost didn't notice when her back slammed against the wall of the ship, preventing her from moving any further. In retrospect, Sheila would have been proud of herself- she had covered 15 feet using nothing but a hand and feet in a record time of 4.5 seconds. 

At the moment though, she wanted nothing more than to be back home in bed, blissfully curled up under her blankets and a messy pile of dogs surrounding her. But noooo... Benny had to wake her up with his tiny puppy sized bladder! Oh yeah… the pup was going to be the last kind of terrier she'd ever own- from now on out, it was BIG dogs with BIG bladders that could hold off the urge to pee throughout the night!

Sharply shaking her head to clear it of such mundane and slightly hysterical thoughts, Sheila eyed the alien cautiously (for that was what it had to be- after all what human had bright green blood and talons for fingernails) and swallowed hard as she belatedly realized it wasn't going to come after her courtesy of the stake that pinned him to the floor. Indeed, the creature hadn't moved since lashing out at her except for a more rapid rise and fall of the massive chest. _'How the hell is that thing still alive? Or even conscious for that matter?'_

Forcing herself to ease up on the stranglehold she had on Benny, but maintaining a firm grasp on his baby blue collar lest Benny attempt to escape again, Sheila took a deep breath and promptly coughed as some of the swirling mists obscured her face, creeping into her mouth and bringing with it a sharp metallic taste. Feeling faintly nauseated and dizzy, Sheila coughed again, wiping at her mouth with the sleeve of her pajama shirt. The unfamiliar taste stubbornly remained despite her efforts, and this time Sheila was positive, the sharp metallic tang had increased in intensity. Resisting the urge to gag, the woman nervously shifted Benny, attempting to hold him up and away from the mists and whatever poisons they might contain. If the puppy was having any ill effects whatsoever from being exposed to the mists, he was doing an excellent job of hiding it as he continued to wriggle and pant happily, overjoyed at the fact that he had a new playmate whom seemed to be quite content lying on the ground, never mind that the alien didn't have a choice in the matter. It was probably a good thing the little bundle of energy was oblivious to the fact that if said playmate could have done anything, it'd probably have squished him under a giant foot without a second thought.

Yes… the fates were smiling upon Benny today.

Ironically, the mists did have poisonous gases laced throughout it, so important for the Yautja's continued survival and yet so detrimental to a human's own health. At the moment through… the human and dog would be fine, but in another 30 minutes… well... Let's just not go into that.

But Sheila wasn't aware of the predicament she was in… nor was she going to worry about Benny's fortune at the moment for the creature, whatever it was, was stirring again. Masked head lolling from side to side as if disoriented, the…alien made a soft noise closely resembling a growl but with a definite note of something tucked into the sound- pain maybe? The ominous sound was immediately followed by a light clicking noise that Sheila likened to teeth clinking against each other. Watching the thing weakly struggle, the deaf woman felt a wave of pity wash over her despite a nagging voice in her head, constantly reminding her of the violent actions the alien had done scant moments ago.

As a trained paramedic, Sheila was highly sensitive to the needs and hurts of other people and already, she had to fight that side of her that urged her to rush to its aid regardless of the danger it presented to herself. '_You are CRAZY if you think that thing won't kill you if it gets the chance! Look at what it's already done to your knees!' _That ever nagging voice shrieked, causing Sheila to flinch.

'_But it's hurt! It might have lashed out because it's in pain and scared… I know I'd be doing the same thing if I was the tomato on the kabob.'_ Ahh, there was the doctor in her, rising up to shoo away the dubious voice through Sheila, to be frank, wasn't sure why she even had voices in her head in the first place.

If Sheila had only known that the yautja had lashed out at her with the deliberate intent of wounding to kill, she would have walked out of the ship without a glance back, leaving the thing to die and gone on with her life, boring as it might be. Oh sure, she would have thought back and wondered what would have happened if she had stayed and helped the alien but she wouldn't have regretted it.

Sadly, that wasn't the case, and with her frame trembling almost minutely, Sheila stood up with her back against the wall. After a second of further consideration, she finally stepped forward. "Can you understand me? I'm a paramedic and I can help."

Her only response was a snarl as the alien swiveled its head in her direction, though if it was actually looking at her, Sheila couldn't say for sure as the soulless mask covered its face. However, it didn't lash out at her again, and Sheila took that as encouragement to step forward again only to be rewarded with another snarl, this time with considerably more heat and anger behind the bestial sound.

Pausing to quell yet another wave of fear and reassure herself that she was still out of reach, Sheila tried again. "Do you speak English?"

No response.

She received the same response when she repeated her inquiry in Spanish, German, and the smatterings of Russian she could remember. Not willing to approach any further than she had already, Sheila sighed and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I am not coming any closer to you than where I am now... at least until you say or can show me you understand what I am trying to do."

The silent act he was pulling didn't fool her in the least- he obviously was a creature with incredible technology and he had to be intelligent enough if he could navigate a ship that was obviously years beyond what human engineers could produce. She paused at that- well technically, he had just crashed the ship, and in a rather spectacular way too… so maybe she was overestimating his intelligence? Fervently hoping that wasn't the case, Sheila tried again in English, this time allowing her hands to flow through the air in her first learnt language- sign language. "Please… you are hurt… I can help you if you will let me."

After several breathless seconds of silence, Sheila's shoulders visibly slumped and she sighed miserably. Great. Now what? It was clear at this point that the creature either didn't honestly understand what she was trying to convey or he was continuing to be stubb- a flash of movement caught her attention and Sheila jerked upright reflexively, only to gape in disbelief.

The creature… was responding to her! In the language of the deaf!

As the taloned hands moved sluggishly through the air, Sheila was able to decipher some words here and there- "...Hurt…Help…" The rest of the words were lost to her, as they were obviously hand signs in the creature's own language.

Well! Seemed like at least one language was universal along all races! With an elated smile on her face, Sheila responded, one hand easily tracing through the air as the other held Benny who had gone strangely silent during the exchange.

Well! Seemed like at least one language was universal amongst all races!

* * *

When the ooman had first approached from its position against the wall, Bti Jfl had snapped out of his pain induced stupor and snarled, muscles tensing despite the agony it caused him. Feeling somewhat better when he saw the ooman pause, Bti Jfl forced away the agony again through sheer will.

By Centatu… the pain alone was enough to make him want to turn his blade upon himself.

Mentally grumbling, Bti Jfl's attention was drawn back to the ooman as it once again took another step. _'Does the cijit thing __never__ learn?' _Snarling with all of the anger he could force behind the sound, Bti Jfl was highly displeased to note that instead of the previous mind numbing fear the ooman had plastered all over her face, there was instead a healthy dose of respect, some left over vestiges of fear, and…pity.

'_ARGH!' _If it was only one thing Bti Jfl utterly loathed, it was pity either for himself or for anyone else. It was almost a phobia really of his, through he would have to be hard pressed to admit to having such a…strange fear.

When the ooman spoke to him in its odd language, Bti Jfl scoffed incredulously- if the ooman actually thought he was going to lower himself to respond in such a barbaric language, it was sadly mistaken. Oh yes, he could flawlessly understand the English language, but to respond in kind would be a huge strain on his throat seeing as he didn't possess all the equipment needed to speak in the ooman tongue such as… let's see… lips and a tongue.

Mind you, he could communicate proficiently in the English language but it really was too much of a bother to do so.

Brows furrowing as the ooman proceeded to speak to him in several other languages that weren't familiar to him, Bti Jfl resisted the urge to growl again. Doing such a frivolous thing was a waste of energy as it was obvious it wouldn't startle the ooman into moving away and leaving him in peace. Almost feeling the inane need to tap his claws rhythmically against the floor in boredom, the warrior couldn't resist bitterly thinking '_Where the hell is death when you want it to come?' _before he shifted carefully, mindful of moving around too much lest he cause any more bleeding,

When the ooman raised its hands and began to sign, Bti Jfl's mind stuttered to a halt. '_…the hell?'_

Almost immediately though, Bti Jfl, never one to pass up an opportunity, figuratively leapt to action, beginning the process of converting the ooman's awkwardly distorted signals into language he could understand.

As a race of hunters dedicated to the kill, Blooded yautja had developed a system of hand communication that they could utilize when it was of utmost importance to be silent, but information still needed to be passed around. What the ooman was using seemed to be an incredibly rough and primitive version of that system and using his knowledge of body language and the hand signs, he was able to discern the ooman wanted to help him. Of course the fact that she spoke aloud as she signed as was a help too.

This of course left the albino yautja in a bind. Should he allow the ooman to repair his injures at the risk of being ridiculed by his kind when they learned of his story? Or should he take the honorable way out and activate his self destructing bomb, thus obliterating any traces of his ship or him? Mmm... Choices choices.

'_Ahh fuck this.'_

Carefully raising his hand and wincing when the abused muscles up and down his single operating arm threatened to seize up again, Bti Jfl began the laborious process of signing single handedly to the ooman whose visage had seemed to brighten up when he responded- not that his thermal based vision was any help with expressions, but her body language conveyed her relief and eagerness to help easily enough.

Hating how pitiful he must seem at the moment but knowing he didn't have a choice in the matter, Bti Jfl phrased his request for aid in terms as simple as he could make it. Privately heaving a sigh of relief as the ooman rapidly responded to his request by stepping closer and kneeling down, now in easy range of his hands should he get it into his head to create bloody mischief, Bti Jfl shoved away his pride and distaste of being touched and allowed the ooman to examine him with surprisingly gentle hands.

Suppressing the flinches and rattles of pain as the small hands ghosted over the still seeping wounds, Bti Jfl tensed as the ooman bent over him, peering at the large pole that poked rather becomingly out of his abdomen. Thankfully it seemed to realize that touching that area would only aggravate the pain he was already in and provoke his temper once again.

Watching the ooman flutter over his form with no small amount of bemusement, Bti Jfl silently observed the ooman while it was up close. If he could recall correctly from his earlier training hunts, this appeared to be a relatively young female, small enough that his hand could span her head with a delicate looking skeleton that he knew from first-hand experience could and would shatter underneath a playful punch from one of his kind. Long tresses, left free like one of the unblooded pups that populated his home world, trailed over one narrow shoulder, ending directly above one of the two mammary glands.

Now _these_, he eyed with considerable interest and no small amount of disgust- no female yautja possessed these attributes and indeed, he couldn't see the reason as to having two large deposits of fatty bodies on the chest area. That only would serve to throw off her balance, forcing her to lean back slightly in order to support the weight, slight as it was. Wanting to poke one and see if they were truly as squishy as other hunters had rumored them to be, but refraining lest he anger or frighten the ooman (not that he cared all that much about her emotional state), Bti Jfl tore his unwillingly fascinated gaze away from the soft appendages. And just in time too as the little female began to sign rapidly again. Mandibles spreading as far as they could go in the confines of his mask, Bti Jfl furrowed his heavyset brows, trying to make sense of what the girl-woman was saying. Something about… moving? Eh? _'But what about the woun- oh. Oh fine you pathetic thing. Run off won't ya?' _Irritably Bti Jfl clattered the appendages that surrounded his inner mouth against each other, producing a distinctive clicking noise

While he had caught something in her signing about bandaging his wounds and possibly moving him off the pole, it was mostly jumbled to his mind, already foggy and dulled by the ever present pain that radiated out from every part of his body. Then she had moved off, out of his sight. While somewhat disgruntled at the lack of information on her part, Bti Jfl chalked it up to the poor efficiency of her sign language. Of course… it wasn't his fault the language had been so perverted and twisted that it was almost a new dialect unto itself so quite naturally it was her fault.

With a sigh that was inaudible to the human ear, Bti Jfl settled back to wait, wincing as the shard still lodged in his upper arm grated harshly against bone as muscles contracted against it. '_Fuckity fuck.'_

* * *

Hate it? Love it? See any errors grammatical or otherwise? Drop me a line! I love to hear from my readers! 


	9. Miracle in the Making

Oh wow! 7307 hits, 87 reviews, 43 alerts, and 29 favs! Thank y'all so much for reading Stranded! I hope you enjoy this next installment and I do apologize for the wait!

Disclaimer- I no own Predator. Sheila, her doggies, and BJ do own me and they do not wish to sell me to anyone else.

This chapter focuses mainly on Sheila with a few POV changes to BJ, just so you know.

This chapter has been not been beta'ed. I'll put up the edited chapter in a few days when I get it back ;-)

I'm also making note of the fact that a lot of readers have commented on how Sheila shouldn't be able to hear. I mistakenly left out a small segment in the 6th chapter that mentioned her going back to pick up her cochlear implant which allows her to hear. That error has been corrected. So to clarify things, Sheila can hear with her cochlear implant (which she has on in this chapter).

WARNING- This chapter contains blood, gore, cursing, and surgery scenes.

* * *

Trees flashed by around Sheila's running form, several branches coming dangerously close to snagging her clothes and scratching her tender skin. Ignoring the stupid implications of barreling around in the woods in the dark even with a flashlight as her guide, Sheila clutched Benny to her chest, determined not to lose him yet again. For the moment though, Benny seemed content to be held, probably knowing that to remain still right now was in his best interests lest his mistress actually follow up on her threats of keeping him a leash for the rest of his natural life. He'd lay low for a few days and let her forget about his mischief until the next time he went off on yet another adventure, thus starting yet another cycle. 

When the house came into view, Sheila sagged slightly, relief coursing through her body briefly before once again, the horrific image of the impaled alien floated through her mind, sending a fresh wave of urgency though her mind. The sooner she could get him on the mend, the more likely it was that the creature would survive.

To be blunt though, Sheila didn't even know at this point if the alien would make it, so devastating were his injuries.

Jogging to the door, she carefully opened it, being certain that there weren't any dogs waiting on the other side to bolt out- she didn't need to be chasing anymore wannabe escape artists at this point. Gently depositing Benny on the ground, she gave a playful swat to his rump and watched fondly as Benny took off, probably to search for another playmate to torment-err... play with. A few rapid strides brought her over to a closet off to the side, and taking a hold of the knob, she flung it open and grabbed several pillows and 2 blankets. On the way from the ship, Sheila had gone over her options and quickly determined that it would be best if she could somehow transport the alien back to her house where Sheila could utilize all her medical supplies instead of toting a bag of supplies back to the ship and hoping that she had brought enough. A frown ceasing her brow, Sheila had to pause- just how the hell was she going to move the alien anyway? From what little she had glimpsed though the fog on the floor, the alien was _massive_ and as such was sure to be more than 6 times heavier than the simple 50 lbs bags she was used to lifting.

Sudden inspiration struck her, and with a bang of the closet door, Sheila was bounding out of the living room, through the kitchen and finally bursting into the garage. Despite coming precariously close to dropping the pillows and blankets she clasped to her chest, Sheila automatically reached to her left to flick the lights on. Taking a split second for her eyes to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights that decorated the ceiling of her large garage, she hurriedly moved forward, picking her way around the free standing shelves that held a medley of medicinal supplies until she reached the middle.

Sitting to the right of the large garage in a space especially created for it was her pride and joy, a massive black GMC Topkick she had named 'Hide in honor of her favorite transformer from the movie. While not completely identical to the movie version of the Transformers' Topkick, the gigantic truck nonetheless was impressive in its own right, gleaming brightly, a byproduct of the long hours of careful buffing and polishing Sheila had applied to it. Not really concerned with how immaculate her truck looked at the moment (although a small part of her did preen at her hard work), Sheila practically leapt across the space separating her from the Topkick before snatching open the door and diving into its interior. Tossing the abused pillows and quilts into the back without any care for where the soft things laid, she barely waited long enough for the garage door to creak open, before stomping on the gas pedal. Resolutely ignoring the black skid marks being left on her floor as the tires scrabbled for purchase, she muttered softly even as the Topkick lurched forward with a mechanical roar, hitting 70 miles per hour in 12 seconds flat.

Within seconds, the house was gone from her review mirror but Sheila wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on remembering where the ship had landed. She would have to follow its trajectory as it landed because 'Hide simply was too large and clunky to navigate through the denser parts of the woods, and injured alien or not, there was no way in hell that she was risking 'Hide getting stuck in a swamp because she was in a hurry and got lost even though she did know the land like the back of her hand.

Finding the trail was easy enough though; just following the smoke wisping up into the sky soon led her to the downed swath of trees where the ship had come to rest, and once again Sheila had to silently marvel at the power and strength of the ship. To have landed as badly as it had and come though relatively unscathed was nothing short of a miracle.

The sun was sliding behind the tallest trees and the blue sky was beginning to deepen in color in preparation for the oncoming night by the time Sheila positioned the truck in front of the ship's single opening, and using the winch, tugged loose a good two hundred feet of cable and the blue tarp that she had tossed into the back of the truck prior to leaving her house. Armed with the cable, tarp, and two blankets, Sheila faced the entrance of the ship. Taking a slightly shaky breath in fear of what she might find, Sheila made her way back into the dimly lit interior, relying on her gut feeling and vaguely familiar landmarks to guide her back to the downed alien.

The instant she stepped into the room, she could feel the heavy stare of the alien on her. Heart thudding fearfully against her ribcage, the woman nonetheless forced herself to move across the room until she was just standing out of reach of these immensely powerful arms and sharp talons. "Hey," She spoke quietly even as her hands moved, forming the signs for the words. "I'm back…"

Her hands, she noted with no small amount of irritation and trepidation, was trembling even as she contemplated the alien in front of her. "Look, I'm going to have to tie you into this tarp so when I hook the cable to the…" She trailed off and bit her lip as a menacing growl rolled out of the alien's throat. "I'm trying my best to help you! This is hard enough to do!"

When a minute passed, and the pale colored entity didn't do anything else, she approached him cautiously. It took every ounce of courage she possessed to take that one step that put her firmly back into his reach should it occur to him that he wanted her legs off in a bloody way.

* * *

Bti Jfl could smell her fear even with his mask on, and his sensitive hearing detected the frantic beat of her heart. There was terror in her body language, in her voice, and still she came to him. Dimly, he knew the pain was making him weak and quickly made the decision to remain still in an effort to conserve his rapidly diminishing strength regardless of what the female did. He did have to give her some respect- grudging as it was- no other ooman or yautja for that matter would have approached him when he was in such a dangerous state and yet here was this tiny female who was attempting to save him.

* * *

Slowly, trying to avoid alarming him, Sheila padded the area around the stake with one of the blankets, carefully folded and wrapped around the metal pole that protruded from the white belly. Fervently, she hoped that moving him wouldn't kill him outright. Shaking out the remaining blanket, she used it to cover his lower body before spreading the tarp out on the mist laden ground. This, she decided, was going to be one of the harder and riskier parts of the rescue as there was no way she would be able to lift him onto the tarp nor could she risk rolling him onto it lest she jolt the stake and cause more bleeding. Even as she pondered the problem, she could still feel the creature's eyes, hidden behind the foreboding mask, on her. She knew with the same certainty that a rabbit knows it's being stalked by a dangerous predator that it was coiled up and ready to strike out at her if needed.

After a minute in which it seemed to be studying her intently, the alien made a gesture that while unfamiliar to the deaf woman, still held a unmistakable note of imperious command. Before Sheila had a chance to figure out what the alien wanted, it moved. With a grunt of barely suppressed agony, it shifted its massive body onto the tarp, the one shard encrusted arm bulging with the strain and causing a fresh wave of fluorescent green blood to gush forth from beneath the largest shard in its upper arm. Sheila knew her eyes were nearly popping out of her head at such an act and abruptly, she had to take several deep breaths in order to quell the sudden tears that threatened to flood her eyes. Nobody or anything deserved to undergo the sort of suffering this creature had so obviously gone through and yet here it was, still fighting to live at the cost of even more pain.

Resolutely gritting her teeth, Sheila bent down to fix the hook of the cable through the metal rungs lining the edge of the tarp before checking over the alien again. Aside from the fresh wave of blood and a more rapid breathing rate, it seemed in the same condition as before and reluctantly, Sheila forced herself to stand back up again and move back toward the exit where 'Hide sat. Before she went, Sheila signed to the quiet alien, "Don't worry… I'll be back. I'm just going to use my truck to pull you out of here and then I'll take you back to my house. I'll get you all fixed up the best I can…"

Not bothering to wait for a response, Sheila turned around and walked away, murmuring softly to herself as she did so, "I hope I can still help you..."

Navigating the corridors of the ship was a little easier this time and in no time, she was back at the truck, pressing the button that started the winch to winding up the cable. For a heartbeat, Sheila thought that the winch was going to refuse to cooperate as it whined and hummed under the stress and sheer weight of the alien but it smoothed out after a few seconds once the tarp containing the alien began moving and gained some momentum.

As the alien finally emerged from the bowels of the ship, Sheila got her first full glimpse of it in lighting conditions more suited to her eyes, even though the lights shining from the truck didn't fully illuminate the clearing.

After all the murky lights and mists in the ship had pretty much obstructed her view but now… now the alien was fully visible. She was gaping at it, she knew, but she couldn't help it. Even lying prone, the thing was positive huge, and if the thing had been standing, it would have reached a good eight feet in height if not more. Clearly defined muscles rippled beneath smooth white hairless skin, or at least the few clean spots she could see that was still free of the alien's green blood. For such an apparently advanced creature, it had surprisingly little on it by way of clothing with the exception of the loincloth (of which Sheila was suddenly thankful for), and several leather-like straps that seemed to serve as the creature's version of belts, crisscrossing across its thickly built hips. The grayish mask, of which she was already well familiar with, seemed to glare at her, blank eyes seemingly following her every move.

Wrapping her arms protectively around herself, she watched silently as with a final creaking groan, the winch finished pulling the alien up onto the bed of the truck, courtesy of the wooden slab that served as a ramp. Shutting the tailgate with as little force as needed in order to minimize jarring the wounded alien, Sheila steadfastly refused to look at the creature even as she scurried around to the driver's side and hoisted herself in. Listening to and taking comfort from the normal sounds of a well oiled machine rumbling alive with a purr, she took a deep breath once again. _"You can do this girl. Just focus."_

The drive back to her house took longer than it normally would have, what with her driving extra slow and making a conscious effort to avoid every rock and bump in the dirt track. As it was, even with four wheel drive, the alien's massive weight logging down the 'Hide's backend and the rough terrain made for rough going. Sheila was cursing softly under her breath by the time she carefully backed the truck into the garage. "Please, please, don't grab me and kill me," she chanted softly, a litany or prayer.

Lowering the tailgate down, she paused momentarily as a sudden thought struck her. She had been able to wrestle the alien onto the bed of the truck thanks to the heavy duty winch and tarp but there was no way for her to move the alien off. For that matter, she was fairly certain that something that caused the incredibly sturdy 'Hide to sag down on its suspension frame was going to simply flatten any of the tables she had scattered around the garage. Rubbing her tongue along the ridge of her upper teeth thoughtfully, the deaf woman gazed around the garage briefly before making her decision- if the alien couldn't be moved in a safe manner, then it would have to just stay in the bed of the truck while she treated its injuries, never mind that she probably was going to need the truck in the near future.

Sheila, by this point, was exhausted, her neck and shoulders aching as stress tightened muscles protested. After suffering from one fright right after the other, sprinting around the forest in pursuit of Benny, and then sprinting back to the house, Sheila was understandably forced to take a moment to rest which she did by leaning against the side of the black truck. As tired sapphire eyes regarded the silent entity resting in the back of her vehicle, she could feel its eyes studying her in a similar manner. Shoving down the small prickle of resentment that threatened to stir within her- it wasn't the alien's fault that this had all happened- Sheila sighed once again before squaring her shoulders resolutely. If she was going to save its life, she would need to get moving on treating its wounds, namely removing the large pole that jutted out of the scantily clothed alien's belly and stitching the resultant hole shut.

Gawd… she could only hope that the alien's anatomy would be somewhat similar to a human's own otherwise the alien was fucked one way or the other.

Leaning to her right, she yanked open a drawer containing a medley of medical supplies, all neatly organized according to their purposes. With quick controlled movements, she grabbed a pair of scissors, a multitude of clamps, a needle, and about a hundred yards of catgut thread. After some thought, she grabbed a pair of sterile gloves- it was possible the alien could be carrying germs that were beneficial to its systems, but if the said germs were passed to her via bare skin contact, it could potentially kill her or confine her to bed for a long time just because her immune system had never been exposed to these kinds of germs.

As she was looking at the labels of the drugs she had stowed in the next drawer, something occurred to her- there was no way she could give him something that could knock him out or numb the areas she needed to work on. For all she knew, any medicine that was safe to administer to a human could cause the alien to go into cardiac arrest. Grimacing, Sheila shut the drawer gently, mindful of the fragile glass bottles. If it came down to it, she supposed she could use a hammer and knock the creature around the head until it passed out.

Carefully setting down her supplies next to the enormous feet (which she belatedly realized possessed blunt looking claws on the toes), she hoisted herself up onto the bed of the truck with a small grunt, trying to ignore how the muscles of one lower leg was larger than the circumference of her head altogether. Remaining on her knees, she lifted her hands and began to sign her intentions, "I hope you can understand this but I have to stitch together these injuries. I don't have anything that I can give you to help with the pain or even put you under…"

Conclusively swallowing as a rattling growl suddenly echoed around the garage, Sheila continued on, doggedly laying out the cold facts "If I can't stitch you up, the bleeding's going to continue and you will die. However, it won't be quick and you'll linger for hours in agony. It's your choice."

Silence ensued for a split second before the white skinned entity made its answer, again using just one taloned hand to make its short response. "Do it."

Scooting forward until she knelt beside the gore covered belly, she reached behind her and pulled the supplies forward until it sat beside her, waiting to be used. Eyeing the jagged edges of the pole warily, Sheila leant forward and carefully unwrapped the fluorescent blood soaked towel from around the base before tossing it off to the side. Gingerly wrapping one of her gloved hands around the pole, she tugged slightly, holding her breath.

The pole didn't budge one centimeter and around it, abdominal muscles flexed, the only indication of the alien's fresh agony.

Suddenly frustrated, Sheila sat back and spoke angrily even as her hands flashed though the appropriate signs, "Dammit! I can't do this with you awake. It is goi-…"

Abruptly the alien moved, and to Sheila's stunned horror, a freakishly large hand wrapped around the stake and yanked it out. Immediately, the deaf woman had to yank off her cochlear implant to cut off her hearing as a blood curdling roar of pain reverberated from within the bull like chest. As waves of blood erupted from severed vessels and torn muscles jiggled, the alien fell limp, seemingly unconscious. The lax hand compulsively opened, allowing the stake to roll away from the duo until it clunked against the side of the truck with a hollow thud.

For a split second, Sheila was frozen before her training kicked in and she was scrambling like a woman possessed, beginning the long process of clamping off the bleeders and stitching like the dogs of hell were breathing on her heels.

* * *

And so ends the ninth chapter of Stranded. ...I do wonder if BJ is going to make it. :-S Even I don't know since the muse is in control of this story and I'm only a tool used to input the words into the computer. 

I have already begun chapter 10 and will post it as soon as I have it done. Please tell me what you think!


End file.
